


Born in the Dark

by Lady_Gadfly



Series: Reylo Week [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Leia is a compassionate bamf which is the best kind of bamf, Rey Needs A Hug, background Finn/Rose, discourse on the nature of good and evil and moral ambiguity, discourse on the nature of the force, the Author Needs a Hug, we love and miss you forever space mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 16:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Gadfly/pseuds/Lady_Gadfly
Summary: 'All stars are born in the dark and all darkness dies in the light.'Written for Reylo week 2018. Theme: Dark.Rey and Ben try to walk their paths of light and dark, but cannot help being grey together.





	Born in the Dark

Being the hero of the Resistance is kind of nice, at first. She’s gone from being a nobody in a junkyard, to a girl with an amazing power, to the saviour of the rebellion. The attention is enough to make her giddy.

After so many years of being thought of as no better than the garbage she scavenged through she can hardly be blamed for revelling in the admiration of so many. People like her. People know who she is without her introducing herself. For the first time in Rey’s life she feels valued.

Then it starts to go sour.

It’s not a lot at first. Just the odd remark from a resistance fighter, pointed comments about her abilities and training.

A pilot serving under Poe makes a comment at a strategy meeting about not needing to be absolutely accurate with their weapons because “the Jedi can just direct them with the Force right?”

It’s an offhand remark, meant as a joke. A ripple of laughter goes through the room and Rey is shocked by how badly she wants to snap at the man.

She’s been training relentlessly. Pushing her body until even Finn, who seems to have near boundless faith in her, tells her to take it easy.

“You’re only human, Rey. Don’t hurt yourself.”

But it’s hard to accept you’re only human when everyone is acting like you’re more than that. The admiration and awe she once relished in becomes suffocating. People she’s never met talk like they know her, and the rumours she’s heard about herself range from funny to downright creepy.

And if one more person demands to see “the levitating trick” she’s going to strangle them with her bare hands.

There’s thousands of years of Jedi history that she barely knows anything about, and she feels like every single one of them is pressing down on her. Every time she reaches out to connect to the Force the once exhilarating rush of energy feels like an electric current zipping under her skin. As her powers grow it’s getting harder and harder to keep them under control.

_Is this how Ben felt?_ She wonders, taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, visualising the excess energy being expelled with her breath. It doesn’t work. _Did he feel like a vessel full to the brim with power with no room for anything else? Did the hopes of others crush him too?_

Rey bites her tongue again and again until it is raw. She gets good at giving vague answers and dodging questions. But she has to snap some time and as it turns out that time is in another strategy meeting. With all the commanding officers present. Of course.

Another pilot (not the same one that made the crack about aiming, thank the Force), comes forward with a _brilliant_ propaganda proposal.

“We should make some holos of Rey doing the Jedi thing.”

“I’m sorry?!” Rey looks across the room at the pilot in question, certain she misheard her. “The _Jedi thing_?”

“You know, propaganda. Something to subtly disseminate on the holonet to give the people hope. A little speech, a little footage of you floating things or practicing with your lightsaber. Did you finish fixing it yet?”

Rey has in fact not finished “fixing” the lightsaber. Luke’s old saber was destroyed beyond repair, the best she could hope for was to take the salvageable components and make a new one. Which she has been attempting to do. With limited success.

“It’s a very complex piece of equipment with many delicate components-“

“Well tell us what you need so we can get it for you.” The pilot interrupts. “And then we can get on with making these holos.”

“Excuse me?” Rey can feel her ire growing, that unpleasant electrical tingling under her skin again. “I haven’t agreed to do this yet. I’m not some performing monkey-lizard you can wheel out to do tricks when you feel like it. I don’t want to be put on display!” She glances around the room, expecting to see at least some people nodding in agreement. To her dismay most are looking uncomfortable, a few actively annoyed. Even Finn is looking conflicted.

“No-one is expecting you to do ‘tricks’, Rey.” It’s Poe who finally breaks the tense silence, his smooth voice filling the room. “But I do have to agree that footage of the last Jedi proving her skill would be an incredible boon for us. A speech could be good too, it could really bolster morale and bring people to the cause.”

“I can’t write speeches.” She’s starting to sound petulant now, but she doesn’t care. It’s not even that big a deal, it’s just the way everyone keeps on assuming she’ll step to and serve rather than make decisions for herself. Like she’s not even a person, just a weapon.

“We can write it for you, it’s fine.” Poe smiles and waves dismissively. “At least think about it.” He sounds so kriffing _reasonable_ she just wants to punch him in the mouth.

“I don’t need to think about it. I have thought about it. I don’t want to do it.” The tingling under her skin is intensifying. She clenches her fists until she can feel her racing pulse throbbing in her fingertips.

“Rey, you know we all have to do our part to help the Resistance, you signed up for that when you joined us.” Poe’s voice has a hard edge now. Ever since Vice Admiral Holdo sacrificed herself Poe has taken pains to behave more like a leader and less like a reckless flyboy, but he still has a streak of “anything for the cause” running through him that disturbs Rey immensely.

“I signed up to fight the enemy, not perform for your amusement!” The electric tingling is thrumming under her skin now, still painful but now also oddly invigorating. It feels like…

_It feels like the throne room._

“Both of you, that’s enough.” General Organa silences the room without even leaving her chair. Rey’s righteous anger curdles and the electricity under her skin fizzles out under those solemn brown eyes. She feels very young, and very out of her depth.

“I…” There’s an air of uneasiness around the room, and Rey suddenly feels the need to escape. “I don’t think you need me for the rest of this meeting.” Finn makes a move to follow her as she briskly exits the room, but Leia puts a hand on his arm.

“Leave her be for a moment.”

It’s much later that Leia comes to Rey’s quarters. Having a room to herself is one of the few perks of people constantly treating her like some kind of superhuman. Apparently she needs the privacy so she can concentrate on her training, and Rey is more than happy to take the solitude. She discovered when they were fleeing on the Falcon that she couldn’t sleep well when surrounded by other people, her brain unable to stop listening for signs of danger even though logically she knew she was safe.

“Rey, I just wanted to check up on how you were doing.”

Rey is perched at the head of the bed, her arms wrapped around her legs. “Fine. I’ve been translating the texts and working on fixing the saber-“

“No, dear. I asked how _you_ were doing, not your training.”

“…Fine”

“Mhmmm. Ben used to say that too.”

Rey’s eyes snap up. They haven’t spoken of Ben yet. They’ve carefully skirted the subject. Leia sits down heavily on the end of the bed. She walks with a cane now, and rests both hands on top of it as she gazes off into the middle distance and takes a deep breath, her next words taking effort.

“When he was younger, before he learned how to control his power, he used to have these terrible tantrums. He’d yell and lash out with his power. He’d break things. Once he accidentally shorted out a housekeeping droid with the Force, without even laying a finger on it.”

Leia’s eyes are bright as she remembers her poor disturbed son.

“I asked him once why he did it. He said to me ‘Mama, there’s too much. There’s too much inside me. I can’t stop it.’ I realised later – far too late, really – that it was Snoke's influence but at the time I just thought it was Vader's legacy come back to haunt us. Force help me I thought I was doing the right thing. I should have sent him off to Luke to receive training sooner so he could have learned how to shield himself, but I didn’t want to lose my boy. Then I lost him anyway…”

A tear runs down Leia’s cheek, and Rey feels the strongest urge to hug her.

“As he got older, he realised that it wasn’t normal. That none of his playmates had to worry about accidentally hurting someone if they let their tempers get out of control. He wanted so badly to get rid of his abilities. He begged me once to make Uncle Luke take the Force away from him, that he’d be good if his powers were gone. I had to explain that it wasn’t possible. He started closing himself off to me more and more after that. He got angrier, quieter. And whenever I asked him about his outbursts he’d just say ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’”

Leia turns bright eyes, filled with more years of pain than Rey has been alive, towards her. “So please understand me when I say, Rey, that I never, _ever_ want you to say you’re fine when you’re not. Please. I am literally begging you. You can scream at me, curse me out, say anything you like. Just please don’t lie and say you’re fine.”

Feeling her face crumple, Rey drops her head. Hot tears leak from her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Come here sweetheart.” Leia gathers Rey up in her arms. “I’m not scolding you. I want to help you.” Leia is warm and smells of perfume and makeup, the soft fabric of her dress tickles Rey’s nose. She releases a deep breath, finally feeling calm for the first time since the meeting.

“I’m sorry I was so stupid at the meeting. I just…can’t stand the idea of being on display for people. I mean seriously kriffing propaganda holos? Some stupid, tacky, overblown holo?”

“Yes, I never much cared for doing them myself.” Leia’s voice is dry with just a hint of amusement.

Rey bites her lip to smother a groan. Of course General (former Princess) Leia Organa had done propaganda holos throughout her political career. Some had even made it to Jakku. Rey had seen them, liked them. Leia’s poise and determination had seized her attention with both hands, her confident words utterly enrapturing a young Rey.

“I’m sor-“

“If you apologise one more time I really will be angry.”

“Sor- uh. Ok.”

“You don’t have to apologise. You have a right to feel how you do. And to a certain extent I agree with you. I made holos because I was raised in politics, my weapons were my words. But that’s not for you Rey. You fight in a different way. And I’m afraid, “She sighs with mock resignation. “You will never be a diplomat. You’re far too blunt.”

Rey laughs in spite of herself. There’s a comfortable pause, the two women sitting side by side with their arms about each-others waists.

“But what Poe was saying, about me showing my abilities. That would help, wouldn’t it?”

Leia weighs her words carefully. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it.”

“But the resistance needs all the help it can get.”

“True. And that still doesn’t mean you have to do it.” Leia looks at her steadily. “Listen, Rey, no matter what the stakes you _always_ have a choice. Don’t let anyone push you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

“He was acting like I owe the resistance something.” Rey mutters, and Leia nods thoughtfully.

“Poe means well but…how do I put this…sometimes he gets too caught up in the cause and forgets the consequences. When you’ve been fighting for so long with so little and you’re presented with someone with a skill that can help you, you cling to it. You feel entitled to it, even. You focus so much on the skill that you – and I mean this is the nicest possible way – can sometimes forget about the person in possession of it. He pushes you because he thinks he’s in the right and people…” Leia’s hands clench the top of her cane, her mouth set in a thin line. “People sometimes do terrible things when they think they are in the right. More atrocities have been committed in the name of the ‘greater good’ than anything else the whole galaxy over.”

Rey shifts on the bed, her next words coming out as a whisper.

“Everybody acts like I’m some kind of saviour. Like I’m going to singlehandedly save the Resistance. I can’t possibly live up to that, it’s too much.” Rey can’t quite meet Leia’s eyes as she says it. It feels taboo to even be mentioning this. As though voicing the words out loud will doom her and by extension the resistance.

“I think you sell yourself short, but no-one expects you to do this alone. We’re all here to help you, however we can.” Leia’s voice is strong and warm and Rey feels more confident than she has in a long time.

She thinks for a moment and remembers the saber.

“I could do with a couple of harmonic energizer conductive plates.” Leia blinks.

“You may need to write that down for me.” They both laugh, and Rey looks at Leia’s worn but still beautiful face, committing this moment to memory.

“Just tell Rose, she’ll know what I mean.”

****  
Admirers Rey has in abundance. Friends, less so, although she certainly seems to have a lot of people who think they're her friend. She considers Finn her closest confidante. She had adored Rose instantly when she woke in the Falcon with a concussion and introduced herself with the words;

“So you’re Rey. So glad to meet you. You can take care of this idiot” she gestured to Finn “while I’m out of action.”

BB8 is adorable, although Rey is still not entirely sure where she stands with his master. Poe Dameron is the most effortlessly charming man she has ever met and for some reason it grates on her immensely. One moment she’ll be confident that they can get along just fine, the next he’ll say something to annoy her. He doesn’t mean to, something about him just gets Rey’s back up for some reason. Perhaps the fact that he keeps on ‘subtly’ mentioning that he’s the best pilot in the resistance at every opportunity.

She feels close to Leia, although she’s not sure she’d class it as friendship. She thinks it might be what having a mother is like. It’s nice.

Chewbacca is sort of a friend but he’s gone back to Kashyyyk. Something about a life debt being fulfilled and missing his family.

Happiness, Rey thinks, should be grasped at whenever possible. She can feel the future looming like a dark storm cloud on the horizon and gathers up every little scrap of light she can to fight against it.

Which is why her, Rose and Finn are currently sitting in the mess hall chatting about anything and everything.

Finn is still finding out who he is without the First Order watching his every move, and the more confident he becomes the more Rey truly believes he will go on to do great things. He’s honourable and determined, and Leia herself has mentioned to Rey that she’s seriously considering putting him forward for a position in high command.

Rose is possibly the kindest person Rey has ever met, and she find the woman wonderfully easy to talk to. She also has never placed the Jedi on a pedestal, which Rey appreciates. Rey asks her about it once only to receive a vague reply about having learned her lesson.

They’re both wonderful people that she loves spending time with. Usually. But right now they’ve somehow gotten on to the subject of how they met (a story that Rey had heard at least half a dozen times now) and they’re getting this ooey-gooey look in their eyes as they look at each other that has Rey looking to the door longingly. They’re a cute couple but seeing them fawn over each other like this makes Rey feel awkward.

“I mean what would you have done, Rey?” Rose asks.

“Huh?” Rey’s attention is jerked back to the nauseating couple. She hadn’t been listening at all.

“We were talking about that time I kinda nearly flew into a cannon.” Finn says sheepishly.

Oh stars, they’re talking about Rose kissing Finn after saving his life. Rey had thought it was terribly romantic the first time she had been told about it, although she also told Finn in no uncertain terms that he had bolts for brains for even _considering_ sacrificing himself.

“Yeah Rey, what would you have done if the person you liked was clueless that you liked them?” Rose is beaming guilelessly.

Rey thinks of a throne room with fire raining down around her, dark eyes looking at her pleadingly as everything she ever wanted offered her everything she never asked for. She’d considered it. Just for a moment, but she had considered it.

_Apparently I would explode a lightsaber and steal an escape shuttle._

She looks across the table at the two. Finn’s arm is looped around Rose’s waist and Rose’s head is leaned comfortably on Finn’s shoulder. They look so comfortable together, so happy and loving and connected. Jealousy burns in Rey’s gut. She doesn’t want either Rose or Finn, doesn’t think of them that way, but she desperately wants what they have. Rey is shocked by the intensity of the feeling, she’d thought that the crushing loneliness she’d felt on Jakku had been assuaged by the belonging she’d found in the resistance.

The feeling is so visceral that Rey grips the hem of her tunic under the table tightly to stop her hands shaking. She wants to be held like Finn is holding Rose. She wants someone who understands what she means when she talks about her Jedi training. She wants someone who will kiss her and love her and tell her she’s beautiful.

Mercifully a group of people burst into the mess at that moment, talking and laughing loudly. They join the three at their table, talking about whatever banal gossip is currently doing the rounds about the base. Rey tries to join in for a while, but the effort of trying to pretend to care who was caught in a supply closet with who, of trying to keep track of too many raised voices and shrieking laughs grates on her. She gets quieter and quieter, withdrawing into herself, until finally she excuses herself to go to the training room. Only Finn notices her go.

Rey picks up her practice saber and starts moving through her forms. Taking her stance, she closes her eyes breathes deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth. She concentrates on her breath for a moment, letting everything else fall away. When her mind has gone quiet, she releases control of her breath, opening herself up to the Force. The current of power is so strong that Rey feels like she’ll be lost in it, that whoever this “Rey” is will be swept away and the Living Force will take up residence in her body.

She takes another deep breath and pulls herself back, moving within the flow of the Force around her rather than drowning in it. The effort is making sweat bead on her skin and she hasn’t even started moving yet.

Slowly, deliberately, Rey starts going through the moves of her chosen form. Her movements feel stilted, the weapon in her hand clunky as she attempts to move through the complex sequence of turns and spins.

She fumbles her footwork, starts again. And again.

She tries shaking out her limbs in an effort to dispel the growing tingling energy gathering in them.

The fifth time she messes up a particularly complex series of footwork, Rey cries out in frustration and feels a wave of energy pulse out around her. The rack of practice weapons falls over the exact same moment she feels the air around her tighten for a moment, then snap back, all sound going from the room.

This is the last thing she needs right now. She can vaguely see the massive dark shape of Ben out of the corner of her eye, can feel his now-familiar Force signature pressing up against hers. She shouldn’t like how it feels.

They’ve connected a few times since Crait. The bond had not dissolved upon Snoke’s death and their interactions have been cold and largely silent, which is awkward since the bond “sessions” appear to be getting longer and longer as more time goes by. The fire and anger of their first force bond connections has long since gone, the tenderness from that one time they touched a distant memory. There’s just sadness there now.

Ben isn’t talking so Rey isn’t either, moving back to her starting position and going through the form again. Attempting to, at least.

The third time she restarts, Ben finally speaks.

“You are attempting the Juyo form.”

“Yes.” Rey takes another deep breath through her nose and takes her stance.

“The seventh and most complex of the classic lightsaber forms.”

“ _Yes_.” Her teeth are gritted. It’s bad enough that every molecule of her being feels like it’s being pulled towards Ben like he’s a black hole. Now that damn low, calm voice of his is making her treacherous heart flutter in her chest like a caged bird.

“You need complete mastery of the other forms before you should even think about attempting it.”

“You got something to say Ben?” Rey whirls around and instantly regrets it. He’s close enough that she has to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. His dark hair has gotten longer and she actually grips the handle of her practice staff so she doesn’t reach out and touch it.

His intense brown eyes are soft as they gaze into hers, and she’s struck all at once by how much they look like his mother’s.

“Shii-Cho.”

“What?”

“Run through the Shii-Cho.”

“The first form? But I’m trying to do the seventh.”

“Run through the Shii-Cho.” He repeats, patiently.

Rey throws up her hands in resignation and runs through the Shii-Cho.

“Widen your stance and keep your pelvis tucked.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re helping me? Why? You know we’re going to end up fighting again eventually, and I beat you just fine without any training before.” In truth she doesn’t think she could raise a weapon against him if she had to, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You did.” He concedes, looking down at her imperiously. “I was distracted. Next time we meet in battle I will defeat you.” He should have kept the helmet. His expressive face speaks to the lie and Rey knows she’s got about as much to fear from him as he does from her. But she can’t quite resist needling him a little.

“How do I know you’re giving me good information?”

Ben purses his lips and moves his jaw, something Rey recognises as a nervous tic of his.

“Close your eyes.”

“Excuse you?” Rey has to bite her lip to stop a smile spreading as Ben rolls his eyes and gives a gusty sigh.

“I’m not going to harm you. Just close your eyes and reach inwards with the Force.”

With a final doubtful look, Rey does as he says.

“Feel the energy of the Force moving through you. Feel how it flows through your body, your veins, your muscles. Take your stance, as you were before.” Rey does as he says. “Can you feel how the Force moves through you unevenly?” She can, actually. Eyebrows furrowed Rey feels the Force within herself stilted where it should be flowing, completely blocked in places. She’d spent all this time connecting with the Force around her, how had she missed this within herself? “Now, make the adjustments I told you.”

She does, and feels an instant improvement. The Force flows through her effortlessly. Her moves have more weight in them, her footwork is more stable.

“Now the Makashi.”

She moves through the second form.

“You’re overcommitting to your lunges. You throw your whole weight forward, it makes your recovery slower and more laboured, and leaves you open to attack. Look.” He easily takes his stance next to her. “When you lunge, your knee should stay over your foot, never beyond. When you recover, push off with your front foot. Don’t let your upper body collapse, or you’ll end up dropping your guard.”

She does, making sure to look within herself as she does so, and again can feel the improvement. Her attacks and recoveries are quicker, more fluid.

They run through all the forms this way, the Soresu, the Ataru, the Shien, the Niman. This is what she wanted with Luke, constructive advice on how to improve her abilities and Rey grudgingly admits to herself that Ben is actually a fantastic teacher. He is concise, encouraging, and the only time he loses his temper with her is when she doubts her own abilities.

By the time they reach the Juyo Rey is sweating and her muscles are aching but she’s desperate to keep going. For months now she’s felt like she’s been barely grasping at the edges of understanding this legacy she’s inherited and she’s finally making some headway.

“Did you know that there is a variation on the Juyo called the Vaapad?” Ben asks, as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

It’s a little surreal, to be standing there chatting with the Supreme Leader of the First Order as though their rival factions are not trying to annihilate each other. Even more surreal is how nice it feels. The lesson itself has been downright pleasant. They both feel it across the force bond, the undeniable sense of rightness when they work together.

“Kind of like how the Djem So is a variation on the Shien?”

“Precisely.” He smiles crookedly and Rey’s heart pounds. He’s a different man when he’s not overwhelmed by his dark nature, and Rey longingly thinks what kind of man he could have been if Snoke had never got his claws into him. “It’s a fascinating variation, because it’s honestly the least Jedi-like of all the forms.”

“How is it not Jedi-like?”

“The Vaapad requires the practitioner to embrace their rage and anger and channel it into the fight. They must enjoy combat, allowing their darker emotions to flow through them and give them power.” Ben’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. It’s endearing to see him talking about something he’s passionate about, but the subject matter unsettles Rey.

“It’s a Dark Side technique then.”

“No, it was actually developed by Mace Windu. A master of great renown who sat on the Jedi council for many years and was considered an outstanding example of the power of the Light Side.”

“Well if he was such a great Light Sider why did he develop such a Dark Side technique?”

“He recognised that there was power in the Dark Side that could be harnessed for the greater good. What he believed to be the greater good, anyway.” The words send a chill up Rey’s back as she recalls the discussion she had with Leia a few days earlier.

“Well, that’s all very interesting but if we’re done talking…” She moves into starting position for the seventh form but he holds up a hand to stop her.

“Why were you attempting the Juyo? You need to be a master to even begin to grasp it.” The bond has endured an extraordinary length of time and Rey wonders if the Force is trying to get a point across. It wouldn’t be the first time it has apparently interceded between her and Ben.

“What, you don’t think I can handle it?” It’s said with humour but there’s fire lurking underneath Rey’s words.

“You have an immense amount of power. Even without any formal training you’re an incredible fighter. But you can’t skip ahead to the advanced forms until you’ve mastered the basics. You need a teacher.”

The words bring both of them rudely back to reality. For a while Rey had honestly forgotten why they shouldn’t be doing this. They’re both thinking of the same snow-covered planet, the first offer he ever made her and the companionable atmosphere they had starts to dissipate.

“Have you mastered it?” Rey blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, desperate to change the subject.

“The Juyo? No. I am competent with it but I would not say I am a master. It’s an incredibly complex form.”

“Oh.” She feels better for struggling with it now. “How do you know about Mace Windu? I’ve not heard of him in any Jedi legends.”

“He was killed in the Jedi Purge.”

“The mass genocide your Grandfather headed.” Ben’s jaw tightens.

“Yes.”

The sensible thing to do would be to change the subject. But as Leia had said, she’ll never be a diplomat.

“Do you really think all those Jedis deserved to die? Just because your Grandfather wanted power?”

“That’s not why he did it.” Ben’s face darkens and the last vestiges of good feeling between them vanish.

“Oh really? Please explain to me then because I don’t understand.” Rey bites out.

“The Jedi order allowed itself to stagnate, become complacent. They embraced passivity to the point that they ceased to take any action unless absolutely forced to do so. They let corruption to thrive within the senate even when they were given every opportunity to eradicate it. They ceased to care about anything other than maintaining their traditions and in doing so allowed their own doom to creep up on them.” Ben’s voice is full of venom. “If they had merely done their duty so much pain and tragedy could have been avoided.”

“And that’s a good reason for all those thousands of people to die?”

“The true spirit of the Jedi had died long before the purge.”

“They could have fixed it! Vader didn’t have to go so far!”

“The order was rotten to the core, a cancer that needed to be cut out before it spread and killed the host. Do you honestly think that centuries of corruption could be undone just like that?” Ben’s voice has taken on a mocking tone now, and Rey sees red.

“I think there are better ways of resolving conflict than _killing people_!” She screams the last words, she can’t even remember the last time she was this angry. There’s another snap of power about Rey and in a blink Ben has disappeared. She gazes at the space where he had been, feeling angry and oddly bereft. She already wants him to come back, even though she’s furious with him.

_We are the worst enemies._

She spends a long time in the training room trying to calm down, and when she eventually gets back to her quarters Finn is sitting on the floor outside waiting for her. He scrambles into a standing position as soon as he sees her.

“Rey! Hey, I wanted to talk to you but I wasn’t sure where you were.”

“Training.” Rey bites out.

“Sorry about earlier, we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Finn rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Rose pointed out we were maybe being a bit too mushy.”

“You didn’t, I’m fine. It’s no big deal.” She smiles tightly. _I just think I maybe have feelings for a dictator that is hellbent on ruling the galaxy and crushing the resistance we both fight for. No big deal._

“Rey,” Finn looks at her seriously. “You would tell me if there was something wrong right? You know I’ll help you however I can.”

“I promise Finn, if there’s anything you can help me with, I’ll let you know.” She smiles, a real smile this time. He’s a good man. Rose is lucky. “I’ve been training for ages I’m just tired.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

They hug and Rey goes into her quarters and gets ready for bed. She lies in her hard too-small bed that somehow still feels empty, and tries to think of nothing.

****  
The sacred texts that Rey had “liberated” from Ach-To are many things. They’re beautifully written and bound. The creamy thick paper is stitched carefully within the covers, some of tooled leather, some of wood, one feels like it might even be some kind of ivory or bone. The languages vary, and Rey has to translate some with the help of a data pad filled with information on ancient dialects and the occasional assistance from C3PO. They’re certainly packed with information, perhaps too much in some places.

And here lies the biggest problem. The thing the Jedi text are best at is acting as sleep aids. They are terribly dry, overly wordy and often contradicting. Rey realises after a while that each of the texts has been written by a different Jedi, of different skill levels, at vastly different points in history, often with different interpretations of the Force and how best to wield it.

What perplexes Rey most, however, is the fact that the terms 'Jedi' and 'Sith' don't appear at all until about midway through the series of texts. They appear suddenly with no explanation, as though the reader should know what they are. Rey searches for the volume where the terms were introduced, but it is either lost or was never written.

Not one text lines up perfectly with another. The information contained within is valuable, but hidden beneath layers of personal bias and pompous philosophising.

“All things are knowable through the Force.” Declares one.

“The most important thing to know is that you know nothing.” Says another.

“A Jedi must be absolutely pure in heart.” One text declares.

“Only Sith deal in absolutes.” Another condemns.

“A Jedi must walk the path of the light, and never give in to the temptation of the dark side.” One text preaches.

“It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved.” Another states.

It’s been over a week since her fight with Ben, and she badly wants to discuss this with him. She knows that to others it would seem like a bad idea. Certainly the resistance would be horrified if they knew the last Jedi was thinking of sharing ancient Jedi secrets with the Supreme Leader of the First Order. But Rey knows down in her soul that she doesn’t have anything to fear from him. The First Order itself is a different matter.

The text she’s translating right now is the one espousing a knowledge of both light and dark, and with every passage she reads all she can think of is Ben. As far as she can tell the text, the Aionomica, is the oldest in the collection. C3PO had a conniption fit when he saw she was handling it with her bare hands, insisting she wear soft cotton gloves. The language it is written in is long dead, a complex array of blocky characters made up of straight lines, read top to bottom.

“It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved.”

She reads the passage over and over. Next to it is an illustration of a figure similar to the one Rey had seen in the old Jedi temple on Ach-To, a humanoid in basic meditation pose made of white and black, surrounded by interwoven circles likewise rendered in equal parts light and dark.

So how did they go from the earliest Jedis embracing both sides of the Force to Luke commanding her to fight the pull of the Dark Side?

Rey’s getting a headache, the strange symbols starting to blur before her eyes. She pushes the book away and rubs at her temples, sighing heavily.

She needs to talk to someone about this, and there’s only one person in the galaxy who could comprehend what she was thinking of.

_Maybe I should try it._

The subject of Force Bonds was spoken of in some detail in another of the texts, the Rammahgon. Rey has obsessively read and re-read the passages, especially the parts that speak of how to control it. She closes her eyes and lets her mind go quiet, focusing on how Ben’s Force signature feels when he is near her. She reaches out with her mind, searching for that same feeling.

Her mind reaches forth, tentatively, and Rey feels cold prickles dance across her skin. Gravity shifts and she feels herself falling backwards, further and further until she should feel her back hit the floor. She keeps falling until there is no longer any up or down. In her mind she sees the planet the resistance is hiding on shrink and fall away, getting smaller and smaller until it becomes nothing more than a point of light amongst a thousand other points of light.

It feels like the mirror cave. She should by all rights be terrified but all she feels is a sense of calm. There is no sound, no feeling of her body in the hard chair of her quarters. She is a thought, a lone mind flying across space, branching out further and further until she begins to lose all sense of self, lose all conscious thought. She is searching for something that is missing from her. She cannot remember what it is exactly, but she will not stop until she finds it, and when she finds it she will rest.

She cannot remember the last time she drew breath. She doesn't need to. Doesn't remember why she needs to.

A hot fizzing energy dances along the edge of her mind. There, there! That's what she's looking for! She rushes towards it desperately, the other half of her.

Her head spins as sound and air and consciousness come rushing back to her. Across from her is a large dark figure perched in the air as though sitting at a desk. _He's here!_

“Ben!” She smiles and makes to stand up, arms reached out towards him, then falls heavily back down into her chair. Rey frowns, bringing her hands up before her and moving her fingers slightly. Her body feels oddly cold and weak.

She catches sight of the time on her translation datapad. It is three hours later than she remembers it being.

Someone is saying her name, and strong warm hands are gripping her upper arms.

“Rey? Rey! Say something! Are you alright?” Ben is kneeling before her, solid and warm and lovely. She feels a dopey smile spread across her face and leans forward so she can press her face into his chest. She wants to hear his heartbeat. She frowns as Ben's arms hold her away from him. For some reason she can't quite articulate it's very important that she be as close to Ben as possible.

“You're here.” She pushes forward again, hungry for the warmth of his body against hers.

“Rey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?” Ben gazes into her eyes, concern etched all over his face.

“No, m'not hurt. “ Rey shakes herself and pulls back from Ben slightly. She's starting to come back to herself now and honestly wishes she wasn't. The simple happiness she had felt on finding Ben is fading away and the usual complex mix of emotions she associates with the man are starting to leak back into her consciousness.

“You seems a little out of sorts. Did you hit your head?” Ben squints at her, getting uncomfortably close. “Are you _drunk_?”

“No!” Rey shakes his hands off her and misses them immediately. “I just...maybe overdid it a little.”

Ben steps back, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides. He's wearing a simple black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and loose trousers. He's barefoot. It's bizarrely intimate.

“Overdid what, exactly?” His head inclines forward slightly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Have you been attempting the Juyo again?”

“I called you through the force bond. On purpose this time.” Ben blinks in surprise.

“You discovered how to control it?”

“Sort of. The texts give some information about force bonds. And other things. I wanted to talk to you about them actually-”

“Texts?”

“The Sacred Jedi texts. I...borrowed them. From Ach-To.” Ben crosses his arms and Rey tries – and fails – not to notice how nice the muscles in his arms look straining against his shirt.

“You know, it really is a pity you're so invested in the light side, you would have made a wonderful dark side adept.” Ben smirks, head inclined to one side.

“It's a pity you're so invested in the dark side, you would make a wonderful warrior of the light.” Rey snipes back.

“I really wouldn't.”

“There's still so much light in you Ben. I feel it. You can still come back.” Ben's shoulders slump, and he suddenly looks so very tired. Rey forgets that Ben is the best part of a decade older than her sometimes, but he looks every day of it right now.

“I can't. The light side doesn't work like that.” She can feel Ben drawing away from her and Rey steps towards him, chin jutting forward stubbornly.

“Alright, so tell me. How does the light work?” Ben gets a faraway look on his face, gaze trained on the floor.

“Mercilessly. The Jedi expected their followers to be pure of heart and soul, devoid of even the slightest hint of darkness. They had to rid themselves of all emotion. Anger, sorrow, greed...passion.” His eyes flick briefly to hers before settling on the floor again. “It's an impossible standard to hold someone to, demanding they destroy themselves until they are merely empty vessels to be filled up with light. There is no room for mistakes on the light side. No room for weakness.” It's difficult to argue with that. The legends of Jedi knights divorcing themselves from all earthly ties had seemed very noble to Rey, until she had actually considered doing it herself. Then it had seemed horrifying.

“Leia told me once that Vader came back to the light just before he died.”

"And that light weakened him, killed him. One act of light does not undo a lifetime of darkness. Once you are sullied with the dark you can never truly be light again. Luke tried to kill me because he saw the _potential_ for darkness within me, that should tell you all you need to know of the light side.” Even without the bond Rey would be able to see the conflicting emotions swirling within Ben. How he simultaneously craved and reviled the light within himself.

“Luke was wrong.” Rey insists.

“Luke was wrong about many things. He wasn't wrong about me.”

“ _He was_. Snoke used you, you know that? He got inside your head and made you think you were something you're not.”

“Snoke brought my darkness to the surface but it was always there. I couldn't control it. There was too much.”

Rey imagines a little boy with a monster inside his head and wants to go back in time, back to the throne room and tear Snoke apart with her bare hands.

“And how long was Snoke in there? Can you even remember a time he wasn't there, manipulating you? Pushing you towards the dark?” Ben remains silent, and Rey knows she's struck a nerve. “You can't can you? That's not you. I know you Ben, I see the truth of your feelings. You can still fight this.”

“You still think you can save me. I've murdered. I've destroyed. I killed my own Father.” His voice is hoarse. “I had too much darkness to be a Jedi and I have too much light within me to ever be a true Sith. I'm a failure on both counts.” He looks so utterly broken and hopeless that Rey wants to shake him.

“You're right. You would never have been a Jedi. You wouldn't be a Sith either. You're something else.”

“There is nothing else.”

“There is. The earliest text I have speaks of force users finding a balance between the dark and light sides. True balance. Neither Jedi nor Sith, something more. Something better. You could be that. We could be that.” She looks him in the eye begging him internally to understand. “I'm not giving up on you Ben.”

“You should.” Ben looks at her with sad, dark eyes. But for just a moment, Rey swears she sees a flicker of hope.

****  
Leia is dying.

No-one wants to say it, but then again no-one really has to. The once dynamic woman is moving slower and slower, leaning first on one then two canes as the days go by. Although her face becomes pale and drawn her bright brown eyes lose none of their sharpness. Attending meetings becomes a monumental effort for her, and more often than not she sends someone in her stead, or takes smaller private meetings with the commanding officers in her quarters.

It seems like the cruellest joke in the galaxy to Rey that the legendary Leia Organa meets her end like this. She seemed immortal, unconquerable, a woman with a soul forged of pure steel and the idea that she's just another mortal who's going to die in this war before peace is restored to the galaxy seems like some kind of terrible mistake.

After the pain of losing Ben in the throne room and Luke on Crait, Rey had an epiphany. She would have to let Ben come back to the light of his own accord. The choice to fall to the dark side had been taken away from Ben. The choice to come back to the light (or somewhere in the middle, as the case may be) would have to be his and his alone.

Rey is good at waiting. She had waited most of her life for her parents to come back, even though she knew deep down in her heart they never would. She knows for a fact that there is still light in Ben, had felt it, seen it.

It had seemed easy at the time. As she felt Luke become one with the Force a wave of calm overtook her. She would put her trust in the Force, she would let what was destined to happen happen, and she would have faith that the light within Ben was strong enough to bring him back to her.

But more and more these days she wonders if that had been a mistake. What if there was more she could have been doing and she has fallen prey to the same folly that was the downfall of the Jedi order, that of inaction. Night after night she wakes in a cold sweat from nightmares of darkness and destruction, of Leia lying dead on a battlefield full of resistance soldiers, of Luke cutting her in half with a lightsaber. She's no longer certain if the nightmares are hers or Ben's. They may very well be both.

She spends long agonising minutes staring in the 'fresher mirror, gazing at her own reflection until it becomes strange to her, pushing down the nameless creeping horror that threatens to overwhelm her. More than once during a strategy meeting she has to hurriedly make her excuses and leave as her heart races within her chest, fighting the urge to scream or run or do _something_ to escape this awful feeling that she still doesn't understand.

The strategy meetings are becoming horribly real now. The First Order has not tried to pursue the resistance since Crait, instead concentrating on rebuilding the fleet that was decimated by Vice Admiral Holdo's sacrifice. The resistance is doing the same, and the process of comparing schematics of warships and x-wings would fascinate Rey if it didn't put a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She's feeling pretty sick now as she stands in her room, although for an entirely different reason. Rose had come to find her in her quarters the day before, and not finding her there had looked in the training, room the mess, the war room and finally the hangar, where she found Rey up to her elbows in grease and machinery.

“Rey! Finally, I thought I'd never find you.” The mechanic puffs slightly, out of breath. “I have a message from Leia. She wanted to talk to you herself but...she had to go rest in her quarters.” Often lately Leia will have sudden attacks of crippling weakness. She'll retreat to her quarters for a day or so, although no amount of fretting by the medical staff can keep her in bed for too long.

“Is she ok?” Rey starts clambering out of the engine, dropping tools haphazardly in her rush to get out.

“Yes, she's fine. As fine as she can be.”

“The message?”

“Ah! Yeah.” Rose grimaces slightly. “You're not going to like it.”

“Rose, what is it?”

“Okay, so you know how we were talking about getting a patron at the last strategy meeting?”

Rey had been listening at the last strategy meeting up until the point where Poe announced that they were planning on launching an offensive on the First Order within the next three months. After that she had been frantically wondering to herself how she and Ben could end the war before it came to that. Every plan she came up with fell apart and she left the meeting with a heavy heart and no idea what to do.

“Um, I vaguely recall? Maybe?”

“It's ok, those meetings put me to sleep too.” Rose grins. “Well, we found one. He's a Senator of the Galactic Republic and he's quite willing to support the resistance financially, provided we send some representatives to meet with him to hammer out the details. We're sending a few people to a planet in the core where he's holding a gala as a cover, and the resistance representatives are to attend under the guise of being guests.”

“I'm not sure I like where this is going.”

“Leia was due to attend of course, but due to her health she's had to take a step back. But we still need a representative, someone powerful that will sway the Senator and impress him. Someone that puts forward a strong image of the resistance and encourages him to support the cause.”

Rey groans. “Let me guess. Someone like the last Jedi?”

“Yes...” Rose shifts uncomfortably and Rey senses that she's not getting the entire story.

“Rose, what else is there? I'm already having to attend a formal event on a core world with a bunch of rich snobs, how much worse could it get?”

“It's not important.” Rose shakes her head. “All you need to know is, Leia requested you personally, and she told me to tell you specifically; 'I know you're not a diplomat, but just pretend you are for one evening. If in doubt smile and say some bantha poodoo about the Force working in mysterious ways'.” Both women laugh. “I assume that makes sense to you?”

“Yes, it does.” Rey sighs. “Alright, I'll go. On one condition.”

“What?”

“You're coming with me. I assume Poe is going on this mission and I need someone to act as a buffer between us in case we start getting on each other's nerves again.”

“Ugh fine. It'll give me an excuse to dress up at least I suppose. I just hope Finn doesn't get too jealous when he finds out the last Jedi is my date.” Rose says with a wink.

Which is how Rey finds herself standing in her quarters wearing a dress for the first time in her life, wondering if she's made a serious mistake. Rose had helped her with the hair and make-up, spraying a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume around a spluttering Rey before running out with a mischievous cackle to get ready herself.

The gown itself is simple enough, with a modest v-neck and a plunging back. The bottom hem of the dress skims the floor and it is entirely sleeveless, which somehow makes her feel even more exposed than the open back does. It's made of a shimmering silver silk that probably cost at least a year's worth of portions on Jakku.

It's the most beautiful thing Rey has ever worn and she feels grotesque, like she'll make the silk dirty just by touching it. Rey steps into the matching silver slippers (she had adamantly refused to wear heels), takes a deep breath and makes her way to the hangar.

As they get underway Poe takes a moment to give Rey an awkward but heartfelt thanks.

“I know we don't always see eye to eye and this isn't really your thing, but thank you for doing this, really. It means a lot.”

“It's fine. I've faced down scarier enemies than this, I can manage one gala surely.”

The gala is a nightmare. It's held in a building of such gaudy grandeur that it hurts Rey's eyes, and the tables are laden with more food than Rey has ever seen in her life. The distinguished guests look at her as though they know she's a nobody from a trash planet. Poe is looking ridiculously dashing in a well-tailored suit and is the very image of charm. For all they've had their moments of conflict Rey is now very grateful for the pilot's silver tongue. Between him fielding polite small talk with the guests and Rose (radiant in a pale blue gown) discreetly whispering explanations of who and what everyone is in her ear, Rey begins to feel slightly less adrift.

They eventually work their way over to their target for the evening. Senator Terrick Barr is a pale, wispy man that constantly rubs his hands together as though he is washing them. He makes a lifelong enemy of Rey almost instantly when he greets her by licking his lips and moving to press a kiss to her cheek, “accidentally” missing and kissing just under her ear instead. Rose grips the Jedi's arm tightly, the women each pressing their nails into each others arms as they grin through the slimy man's overtures. Even Poe's legendary charm buckles under the man's sheer creepiness when the Senator casually mentions his half-dozen teenage wives on his home planet. The man is at least old enough to be their grandfather.

“Of course, you may be wondering why a man such as myself would be willing to for an alliance with the resistance.” The Senator loves the sound of his own voice, getting entirely too close to the women who are still clinging to each other.

“Well, the Force works in mysterious ways, Senator.” Rey grits out.

“I must confess that I had thought the resistance a sad crippled shell of it's former self and had thought to prepare for the coming of another empire. But when I heard that they had the Last Jedi fighting for them well, I knew I had to get you on my side.” Rey forwns, affronted.

“And if the last Jedi had allied herself with the First Order, what then?” Rose grips Rey's arm and Poe's eyes flash a warning. The Senator carries on, unheeding.

“Then we would still be meeting my dear, under slightly different circumstances.”

“You would ally yourself with the First Order. Even after all they've done.”

“When you get to be my age you realise that from one regime to another, surprisingly little actually changes for the ones on top. And I am always on top. How old are you dear?”

“I just turned twenty.” Rey swallows down bitter bile in the back of her throat.

“Really? You could pass for younger.” The man's eyes wander up and down her frame in a way that makes Rey's flesh crawl.

“If you would excuse us.” Rose all but drags Rey away before Rey does something she regrets, and Poe engages the odious man in conversation once more.

Rey and Rose beat a hasty retreat, passing the ladies washrooms and stealing into an unused study.

“What the pfassk Rose why didn't you warn me what a slimeball this guy was?” Rey cries.

“I didn't want you to be biased against him.”

“But you knew he was like this.”

“Yes, he has a reputation for being a little...well...icky.”

“A _little_?! Rose he has _six wives_ , not one of them over nineteen! He's got to be in his seventies at least!”

“Totally legal on his home planet. Women there are not permitted to hold property of their own, they only have what their husbands have.”

“And everyone just accepts that.”

“The galactic republic was built on the concept that every planet be allowed to govern itself and keep it's own laws.”

“Even if you find those laws repugnant.” Rey grits out.

“Yes.” Rose is gripping the Haysian smelt pendant she always wears so tightly her knuckles are going white.

“He doesn't even care about the resistance, he just thinks they're the slightly better option because they have me!”

“We don't need him to believe in the cause. We just need his money to pay for ships and weapons.”

“And you're ok with this?”

“Of course not! You think I like being here amongst all these sleemos? You think we have any choice? Senator Barr isn't even the worst of it! The Senate is filled with corruption.” Rose's eyes flash fire and Rey takes a step back. “Even back when it was newly-reformed with Leia working herself to death to rebuild the Republic it was full of crooks and liars, and since she quit politics to run with the resistance full time it's gotten even worse. It's an open secret that the Senate only serves itself. They keep up the facade of being for the people but in reality the galaxy works much the same way it always has, the rich live in the core and those in the colonies and beyond can go hang for all they care.”

Rey blinks in surprise, she's never seen the sweet-natured mechanic act like this.

“Rose, I didn't-”

“I grew up in Hays Minor, in the Otomok system.” Rose's eyes are bright with unshed tears. “It was a mining planet. Ever heard of it?”

“No.”

“Of course you haven't. Practically no-one has.” Rose's voice is bitter but she meets Reys eyes unflinchingly. “The First Order came to my home planet and stole all the strong children to be Stormtroopers. Then they forced the remaining citizens to strip the planet of resources so the First Order could take them to build their weapons. They worked about half of the population to death. Then, when their weapons were complete, they used Hays Minor as a test site.” Rose's hands are fisting in the tulle of her skirt. “And do you know what the Senate did about it?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Not a damned thing. They didn't even release a statement. A whole planet was destroyed, but because it wasn't in the core they just looked the other way.”

“Rose I...I'm sorry. I had no idea.” Rose deflates, her anger leaving her as suddenly as it had come on.

“It's alright. I'm sorry I blew up at you. I just...feel very strongly about this.” Rose gives a watery laugh. “I know how you feel Rey, really I do. I wish we didn't have to deal with creeps like this either, but we have no choice. We need what he can give us.”

“Seriously, I think his eyes have gotten higher than my collarbone maybe twice.” Rey mutters. The women glance at each other and giggle. The giggling grows into chuckles and before long the two are clinging on to each other to stay upright as laughter shakes both their frames.

“Oh stars, Rey, he is such a creep.” Rose giggles, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Yeah, but he's a creep we need money from. So let's go out and grin and bare it for a little longer?” Rey offers her arm, and Rose takes it.

“Fine. But if he tries to kiss either one of us again do me a favour and use the Force to make him slap himself.”

“Deal.”

It was much later that the party returned to the base, having been successful in their mission. The Senator offered to let them stay the night, which all three of them vehemently insisted was not necessary. When he went to kiss them goodbye he mysteriously tripped on thin air.

Rey slumps into her quarters utterly exhausted, wishing she had thought to take a change of clothes with her so she could have changed on the Falcon. All sound goes from the room and she feels Ben's presence behind her. Of course. Because the force just loves tormenting her. She waits for Ben to make some comment. And waits. And waits. Finally unable to take the silence any longer Rey hesitantly looks over her shoulder.

It looks like Rey caught Ben midway through training. He's wearing black trousers and tank top soaked with sweat, and his hair is tied in a low ponytail. He's staring at the skin of her back with some odd combination of hunger and mortification on his face, and the tips of his ears are turning red.

“You going to a party?”

“Just got back from one actually.”

“You-” His voice comes out hoarse and he clears his throat. “You look, uh...”

“I look ridiculous.” Rey sighs.

“You don't. You're stunning.”

“I look like what I am Ben, a sand rat in a dress.” Between the guests looking at her like she was a peasant and the Senator looking at her like she was a piece of meat Rey, usually unconcerned with her physical appearance, has never felt uglier.

“You look beautiful and whatever idiot made you feel less than that should be crushed like the insect they are.” Ben growls, throwing his practice saber out of sight as he advances towards her.

“Ben you can't just Force Choke everyone you disagree with.” The mental image of Senator Barr's face going purple as he chokes on nothing is far too appealing.

“I literally can.” In spite of herself Rey laughs a little. This whole situation is ridiculous. She's chatting with the most feared man in the galaxy and all she wants to do is reach out and touch the wisps of hair that are clinging to his sweat soaked skin. “I mean it Rey. You're better than all of them. You have a power they will never have.”

“Just because I'm more powerful than them doesn't make me better than them.” Rey turns to face him fully now, head held high and shoulders back. Ben is looking at her with such intense adoration Rey isn't sure if she wants to hide from in or bask in it for as long as possible.

“You would make a magnificent Empress.” The words seem to leave his mouth without conscious thought, and as soon as he realises the implications of what he's said his jaw snaps shut, the flush spreading over his face. Rey feels warmth spread across her own face, her eyes going wide.

_Mother of Moons his proposals are getting worse. Or better? They're certainly getting bigger._

Rey is entirely too tired for any kind of banter, and something Rose said earlier has been stewing in her mind. “Why do you hate the Republic?”

Whatever response Ben had been expecting it certainly wasn't that.

“What?”

“You said the Senate was corrupt, I assume you hate the Republic too? That's why you want an Empire right?”

“I don't hate the Republic. I think, in theory, it is a wonderful idea.”

“Then why?”

“Because that's the only way it works, in theory. In reality the Republic is a lumbering collection of disparate factions. The wealthiest planets in the core receive all the benefits whilst most of the planets in the outer reaches are left to their own devices. The Senate has allowed them to self-govern without any supervision for so long that most have reverted to barbarism. The Republic claim to work for the good of all, but in reality they do nothing but offer mealy-mouthed platitudes to those who need them most whilst growing fat off another's toil.”

_Strange. If circumstances were different Ben and Rose would get along famously._ Rey thinks wryly. “And the First Order is the remedy to this?”

“The galaxy needs strong central leadership.”

“And conquering it is the only way to do that?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Your Mother believed in the Republic. She still does.” _She still believes in you too._

“My Mother gave her life to the Republic. And all it gave her in return was heartache and betrayal. Ask her to tell you the story of how Darth Vader was revealed to be Anakin Skywalker sometime.”

“Your Mother...” Rey trails off, not sure how to broach the subject. Leia has very little time left.

“Is growing weaker. I know. I can feel it.” Ben's agony echoes through the bond.

“She wants to see you again. Before...”

“I can't.” Rey nods, pressing her lips together. It's not like he can pop round with a bunch of flowers, after all.

“She still loves you Ben.”

“I know.”

****  
Rey fires up her new saberstaff in the training room, the blue blades crackling with raw energy.

“It's beautiful.” Ben says. Rey has ceased to be surprised by Ben's appearances. Even if they don't consciously reach out to each other the Force connects them on a daily basis now. She doesn't know what she'd do if she didn't see Ben at least once a day. “I look forward to seeing it on the battlefield.”

She idly twirls the saberstaff around, feeling numb. It's happening. She's going to have to face Ben in battle. Once she would have relished the thought of having another chance to beat him. Now it seems obscene. She can't possibly fight him. She can't kill him. She'd be killing part of herself.

“I've been training.” _Force please don't make me do this I can kill him I can't please not him._

“Good. You'll need it.”

****  
The scuttlebutt amongst the resistance is that Kylo Ren, scourge of the galaxy and Supreme Leader of the First Order, is going to be assassinated any day now.

Rey connects with Ben during a quiet moment in her room and asks the man himself.

“Yes that sounds about right.” His voice is casual but his manner is anything but. He's even paler than usual, with dark shadows under his eyes. His hands repeatedly clench and release, his jaw working ceaselessly.

“Why are you still there? You don't want to be a dictator Ben I _know_ you don't. Why are you still doing this?” Rey pleads.

“Do you know who Admiral Hux is?”

“No idea.”

“He's my second in command. And he does want to be a dictator. Very much. He wants it so badly I believe he is willing to do just about anything to get it, including assassinate me. Or rather, have me assassinated, he's nowhere near powerful enough to do it himself.”

_Incredible. Even facing death he's still an arrogant nerf-herder._

“So? Let him have it then! Leave the First Order, we can find a way to fight this, together!”

“If I leave it will create a power vacuum, and if Hux gains control of the First Order it's all over. You thought Hosnian Prime was bad? Hux won't hesitate to destroy and and all planets that stand in his way. He believes absolutely in the First Order and all it stands for. It's too late to stop it now. All I can do is make sure the monster I helped create doesn't kill too many people.”

Rey thinks of doing things for the greater good, of making deals with devils to get what you wanted and hoping the guilt didn't eat you from the inside out. She thinks of doing bad things for good reasons.

_It is only through complete understanding of both the light and dark sides of the Force that true balance can be achieved._

She thinks of sitting in a stone hut, making a connection with a man she should hate.

There is no light and there is no dark. There never has been. There is just grey.

Rey finally realises what the uneasy feeling that's been brewing in her gut for the past month or so is. It's panic. She's running out of time. They all are. Her, Leia, Ben, the resistance. It's like trying to hold on to sand, the harder she tries to hold it the faster it gets away from her.

Rey can wait for Ben forever. The galaxy can't.

“The First Order will be mobilizing within the next couple of weeks.” Ben says mildly. “You should be ready.”

Rey nods, then does something stupid. “You're in the Tion Cluster.”

“And you're in Bothan space.” Ben replies, without missing a beat. “How long have you been able to tell where I am through the bond?”

“A while. And you?”

“Much the same.”

“I was researching Force bonds.” Rey struggles to speak around the lump in her throat. “You can sever them if you want to.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

****  
It's barely a surprise when Rey rolls over in her bunk and finds Ben lying next to her, the coarse blankets of her resistance bunk blending into soft black sheets. The Force has no sense of propriety.

Ben mumbles an apology and moves to leave his side of the bed, but Rey grabs his arm before he can go.

“Stay. Please.”

They lie like that for a long time, foreheads touching, soaking in the warmth of each other's skin and smell and the sounds of their breathing.

“I don't want to fight you Ben. I don't think I can. Whether you kill me on the battle field or I kill you I think either way I'm going to die.” Tears are leaking from her eyes, dripping over the bridge of her nose and onto the pillow.

“I couldn't kill you Rey. I'd rather run myself through than hurt you. But sooner or later we will meet in battle.”

Rey is lying on her right side and slowly, carefully she raises her left hand to trace over the scar she gave him on Starkiller. Ben's eyes drift shut as her fingers carefully skim over his brow, down his cheekbone and past his jaw, past his throat where his pulse is hammering against the skin and finally where it curves onto his chest. She presses her palm there firmly, nudges her forehead against his until he opens his eyes. She gazes into his eyes, losing herself in him until she's not sure if she's looking in at him or if she's looking out at herself.

Her lips press against his gently, so gently. Rey's very soul feels the rightness of it and she swears she can hear the Force humming around them. It's a chaste touch of lips, but even so when she pulls back she can see Ben is as affected as she is. His pupils are blown, breathing ragged. There's a look of utter wonder on his face, as though he's just been told the answers to every mystery the galaxy has ever had.

“I'm not losing you, Ben. I refuse. We're going to win this war. Together. We can't win it any other way.” Rey whispers, bringing her other hand up to trace along his jaw. “I've been thinking about this a lot, and I have a plan for how we can do this.”

Rey swears she can feel all of history teetering on a knife's edge. All the years of history and pain and suffering, leading up to this moment.

“Alright,” Ben says. “Tell me the plan.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is very late. I won't bore you with the details but between illness and computer issues I basically missed Reylo week. But hey! Better late than never. I am filling all the prompts, and will try and get them up as soon as I can. 
> 
> I tried writing something straight up dark but I just couldn't do it. I have a fascination with those tricky grey areas between good and evil and started pouring my thoughts out on the page, and this happened. It grew legs and got away from me a bit, and I'm not totally happy with it but I'm sick of looking at the damn thing so here it is. 
> 
> Not so fun fact: Senator Barr is in fact based on a man I have the great misfortune to work with irl. I regret to inform you, gentle reader, that I have not invented or exaggerated any part of his personality. Including the neck kissing thing and the teenage wives. Really. I wish I was kidding.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd, I apologise for any errors. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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